Weighing the Stars

                   Dan Wiencek

 

​

              grass fingers the backs

of our necks, Star eggs, she

         says into my ear, star eggs,

                  now what do you make

           of that?

​

 

                   Eyes confounded, probing

                             the absences

          between glittering points, not-line,

                    un-boundary

 

          hand finds hand, shelter against

nightchill, one fixed point

          in a void

 

The eye evolved forty times,

          she goes on,

                                I mean, how

                    can you hear that and

                                         just sit there—?

 

         while star milk carves valleys

in blackness, encircling

         our sky

​

​

​

​

​

A poet, critic and humorist, Dan Wiencek studied writing at Purdue University and his work has appeared in McSweeney’s Internet Tendency, Hypertrophic Literary and Crack the Spine, among other publications. He lives in Portland, Oregon and is currently working on his first collection of poems.